Viciousness, a Lesson
by logicalemotional
Summary: The World is a vicious place, we couldn't fully comprehend it back then. When the Host's meet a delinquent with a foul mouth and view of the world. they learn about cruelty, and friendships that let us survive. Hostyaoi Haruhix fem oc
1. An Incident

**I don't own Ouran, I can't draw that well, and nobody in their right mind would publish me, I'm far too nuts.**

**Beware of future chapters, this is more of an intro, but later on there will be; TamaKyou, Possible Twincest, Possible MoriHoney, and Haruhix(Fem!)OC(Zakuro)**

The world is a_ vicious_ place.

That's what we learned from her. It was a concept that we could barely even understand at that point, she taught us that too. Maybe it was a rude wake up call, but we soon learned not to expect manners from that proud bitch.

We; the Host Club, were visiting Haruhi—under Tamaki's orders—in her squalid little neighborhood park, as Hikaru and Kaoru had wanted to see where commoner children played. Being the 'mommy' of the situation, and the only one who had a semblance of control over Tamaki, I was forced to accompany them. Darkness was approaching and the wind made the temperature seem unusually cold. The low-rent apartment buildings that housed the lower and middle class people that infest the area loomed over the wet dirty streets.

After a particularly strong gust of wind that was magnified by the rows of buildings which caused a wind tunnel effect, Haruhi suggested that we return to her apartment, and before anyone could complain I confirmed that it was the best course of action. It should have ended as just another normal day with the Host Club, we didn't plan for interference.

"Hey! Haruhi-chan!" a mocking voice yelled from the shadows. Five teenagers emerged from a shadowy alleyway. Three boys dressed like punks, two s dressed like s. The leader advanced, with the prettier of the s hanging off him like another piece of his flashy jewelry. "_Harurin_! You got yourself a harem now? Or did you finally confess to being a fag, like your gay-ass father?!" This angered Tamaki beyond my ability—or wish in this situation—to control him.

"Who are you?! And what right do you have to insult Haruhi?!" he shouted.

"Who are you!?" the punk yelled back "You have no part of this! You blond pansy!" Honey stepped forward,

"Haru-Chan is our friend! We do _so_ have a part of this!" He rolled up his sleeves. The delinquents—having absolutely no idea what danger they were in—started to laugh hysterically at, what I'm sure was a comical sight to them. That's where she came in—

"Get the away from them Hiroto you ass!" a voice pierced the sounds of the city and echoed in the air around us. There was a clang as she jumped a chain-link fence, and stood before us in all her hideous glory. Tall, too thin, and dressed in black jeans and a black shirt with its sleeves torn off, a long black coat hanging half off her bony shoulders. Her hair was short, about a centimeter longer than Haruhi's, black with white bleached highlights, giving the impression of an elderly woman if you only say her from the back. A large scab covered half her face, the other half was discolored by blotchy light scars on her dark skin, from similar past injuries.

"Zakuro* you wh*re!" Hiroto whirled on the newcomer "This isn't any of your business!"

"If you're messing with Haruhi-san again, no f*cking chance!" Zakuro began to purposefully march toward us, her scuffed combat boots splashing in the puddles as she crossed the road.

"Zakuro-san it's—"Haruhi started cautiously but was cut off,

"Go sell yourself Zaku-chan!" one of Hiroko's cronies called out condescendingly.

"Fat chance, you fat-ass" she tilted her head to the side and regarded them condescendingly, then flipped open a mid-sized knife, that glinted in the streetlights and the setting sun. "Now run home, I mean business." She held the knife loosely, confidently, as if she were about to peel a piece of fruit, and not to attack a delinquent.

The offending scum were just drawing their own blades as Honey and Mori set upon them from behind. After a bit of a struggle Hiroto and his two friends were being restrained between Mori, Honey, and Zakuro, while the two sluts were chased off by the Hitachiins and myself.

"Apologize!" Zakuro demanded to the incapacitated delinquents.

"This is our turf!" Hiroto protested.

"You've been watching too many old gang movies you boy-ho! You and your buddies _aren't_ a gang, and this isn't your turf! Now stop playing pretend and go home to your skank-mother!" Hiroto writhed in Mori's grip in attempt to attack Zakuro then slumped, he wasn't stupid, and he knew he was outnumbered.

"Che' I'll leave jus' as soon as this big bastard lets me!" he glared at Mori. At a nod from Honey, Hiroto, and the punk Honey had captured were let free to run off without their comrade. After twisting the boy's arm a little, the apparently sadistic Zakuro dropped the third delinquent, who then bolted after his 'friends' leaving us—the Host club—Haruhi, and the newcomer Zakuro standing under the streetlights.

**I'm going to warn you now, this may get violent, it may get ual, It definitely won't be for the faint hearted. I also may be slow in uploading, as my I'm in an odd situatuion right now.**

**"Zakuro" means "Pomegranate" **

**"Hiroto" is the kanji for "large/great" with the kanji for "command/esteem" and "soar/fly"**


	2. Tea and culture shock

**This chapter's from Haruhi's POV, the next one will be Kyouya again. **

**I do not own OHSH if I did it'd be a yaoi fest**

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I'd known her for about a year before the incident in the street. She was just a girl from the poorer part of the neighborhood; she lived in a closet-like room behind a secondhand bookstore where she worked afternoons seven days a week. Every time I stopped by she'd give me a discount. We always were very different, me studying hard to become a lawyer, while she--who was only a year older than me — already worked two jobs, just to survive, but we both shared a love of books and knowledge. I didn't know where the money she made went, for she always was a bit thin and worn. I didn't want to know, in this area it's 'don't ask, don't tell' policy, and we like it that way.

I stood there looking at her, and then at those rich bastards who had gotten me into this mess. Zakuro looked like she'd had her face wiped on the pavement, and this was entirely possible. I never bothered to ask about that.

"Thank you Zakuro-san" I said smiling gratefully, if she hadn't been there it _would_ have been ugly. Hiroto and his little friends may not have been a real gang, but when they picked a fight, it meant they were pissed, and quite likely to take it out on whoever walked past them first. Lucky me, he lives in the apartment building right next to mine, and he has a serious case of homophobia.

"No problem Haruhi-san." She said smiling and inclining her head, as was her manner. She hitched her coat up her shoulders, and I noticed that the sun had gone down. The Host Club was standing there, looking confused, and a bit shell shocked. I'm guessing they weren't used to being harassed by stupid street punks, when you're in a neighborhood like mine, staying out after dark is just asking for it.

"Come on you guys." I ordered then turned "Zakuro, would you like to come to my apartment for tea" she nodded her head, smile growing a little brighter—I knew that the large scab on her face would stop her from smiling too brightly, that would probably hurt. I started to walk, and for once we all walked off without a hitch.

That didn't last long, moments later the sounds of the city were interrupted by Tamaki—

"Bonjour Zakuro-hime" No matter what girl it was, Tamaki would always pour on the charm "I must thank you for defending our Haruhi-chan back there" he bowed down and attempted to kiss her hand. Before his lips touched her skin she moved her hand, and mirrored his western style deep bow, then stood up to her full height, and looked Tamaki in the eyes "Haruhi-san had done nothing, and I owed Hiroto a good beating, I still do, but don't like my first impression to be sadism.". My thought process; _and they say _I'm_ blunt! _It was true though, and honesty is always best. Besides, I thought she had looked very noble standing there under the streetlights--like those 'cool girls' that mangas that aren't under the 'romantic comedy' genre tend to have. The Hitachiins and Honey began to chatter on the way back, Mori walked calmly behind Honey, Tamaki lagged behind—sulking about something—with Kyouya walking loyally beside him.

My father wasn't home; he had work that night so the apartment smelled of hairspray and perfume. I was rather glad to have people over, being on my own every night got boring after a while—even if the people were six obnoxious rich boys, and one local ragamuffin. I had the strong suspicion that the Host Club may be in for a bit of a culture shock.

"So Zaku-chan, what school do you go to?" Honey asked innocently.

"I dropped out of school after eight grade" Zakuro replied nonchalantly, sipping her tea.

"What do you do?" Hikaru asked while calmly stealing a sip of Kaoru's tea.

"I work at a secondhand bookstore, and I bartend." She did, at a club called Mononoke' where the punks, goths, and dealers flocked. Kaoru swatted Hikaru playfully, and Hikaru grinned.

"Are you poorer than Haruhi?" he's tactless on purpose, like I said one time, he's mean. Zakuro just smiled—

"Yeah, but I deal. Are you one of those rich kids she goes to school with?" She tilted her head as was her trademark, while she dared Hikaru with her eyes to challenge her again.

"Yes," I intervened "Zakuro, meet the Ouran High School Host Club."

**Read and review plz… and if Zakuro's too Sue-ish I don't care, I'm just writing this 'cause it's fun**

**This chapter lacked a plot… call it a filler. **


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